"Be still, Alazir. No amount of struggling will loosen those bonds," came a smooth voice from outside the tent, where a silhouette was faintly visible against the light of the moons, "Cyrus will release you during the engagement tomorrow."
On the bare ground in the center of the otherwise empty tent, tied with his back against the central pillar, was a young, wild eyed and powerfully built Redguard man. His skin, brown like fresh earth, was covered by loose cloth garb that had yellowed with sweat and hours underneath fitted armor. He grunted in the dark as he writhed against the ropes holding his hands behind the wooden pole.
"Why doesn't he release me now, so I can flay his cowardly hide before destroying the Dominion's camp? We should be falling on them now, Kotara!"
"You know well why we can't do that. If not for your blood lust, these elves would not even be here," answered the voice.
"I welcome them!"Â Alazir shouted, "The more that come, the more retribution we can mete out!" Spittle flew from his mouth. He sunk back against the pole. Kotara seemed unfazed by the outburst as he replied.
"You mean that you can mete out. You forget your brothers and sisters in your hatred, Alazir. You cost us. This time, we do it right, surrounding the camp and attacking as one. None of the elves escape. How does this not satisfy you?"
He was answered with silence. This seemed to frustrate the guard more than the shouting, as he went on with a colder tone.
"Because you are selfish. You aren't fighting a war like the rest of us. You fight a vendetta. Yes, I know what happened to you. I know the fate of Hegathe. Believe me when I say your family will be avenged."
"Only when the last of the Aldmeri is dead," Alazir answered quietly. The subdued noises of their camp filtered through the tent flaps again, together with the smell of meat going on the fire. Kotara's shadow leaned away from from the tent and he could be heard sniffing the air.
"Time to eat, I think," he said, more to himself than anything.
"And what about me?" Alazir ventured.
"Your fire needs no more fuel, my friend," the silhouette paused, then moved to the tent flaps, and they parted to reveal the face of a Redguard warrior, darker still than Alazir, head wrapped in a traditional hood. The scarred face offered a surprisingly gentle smile, "Don't go anywhere. I will bring something back for you."
Alazir only grunted in answer as the tent flaps fell back in place and Kotara disappeared into the camp. For a moment Alazir tried to peer through the entrance, to see if he could spot Cyrus, likely basking lazily in the warmth of a fire, but other tents blocked his view. He spit in the dirt and slouched back against the pole, letting his head hang. Before long he drifted into a restless sleep, plagued with nightmares of Hegathe, the outlying settlement burning...the people burning with it.
Comments